


Day 12: Dragon

by Magpie_Crow



Series: Inktober 2019 [12]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Dragon Witch Remus, M/M, Magic, Ouch, Remus TW
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-09 11:04:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20993768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magpie_Crow/pseuds/Magpie_Crow
Summary: Damian decided to do the only thing he could do.He went to find the witch.





	Day 12: Dragon

**Author's Note:**

> I am so, so sorry.

“Make sure the King doesn’t finish the return journey alive.”

Damian froze, hand still resting on the spine of the book he had been reaching for.

“Yes, my lord. And the Prince?”

“He’ll be taken care of, and the kingdom will be ours.” Two sets of footsteps walked out of the library, their owners unaware that the prince himself had overheard their conversation. 

~~

Logan wouldn’t be dissuaded from his annual royal visit to the northern outpost, so Damian decided to do the only thing he could do. 

He went to find the witch.

It wasn’t as hard as he’d been expecting, what with rumors flying left and right that the witch hated to be found. It seemed that as soon as he stepped foot in the forest outside the town, he came across a clearing with a small hut in the center. 

The door opened before Damian could knock.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” A strong arm reached out from the darkness inside and pulled Damian in. 

He was surprised at the state of the cottage. Part of him had expected an empty space with a cauldron bubbling over an open fire, and an old woman crouched over it with a wand. Instead, the small room was cozy and full of knick-knacks. The witch himself, for it was a he, was tall and young, perhaps a few years older than Damian.

“What do you want from the witch?” He was also straight to the point. 

“I- I would like to request assurance that the King return safely from his travels.” 

The witch hummed. “I see. And what would you offer to pay for my services?”

“Anything.”

“Anything?” The witch seemed delighted, moving closer to Damian. “What if I… What if I asked you to pay with your life?” 

Damian could feel the cold steel of a blade the witch had produced from nowhere against his neck. 

“A life for a life, if you will. Souls are precious, little serpent.” The knife traveled down from Damian’s throat to tap against the snake broach he wore. “What if I asked for yours?”

“Then take it.” Damian made eye-contact with the witch and prepared, perhaps, to die. The traitors in the court were planning on killing him, anyways, why not make sure his brother survived?

The witch laughed, loud and long. “Loyalty! Such loyalty, little snake. What dedication to the Crown! Tell me, little snake, what stake have you in this? Is the King your employer? Your…” He paused and winked at Damian, “lover?”

“He’s my brother.”

Stepping back, the witch turned away, and Damian could no longer see his face in the dim light. “I see. Very well, little prince, how about your time?”

“My… Time?”

“Time, company, body, whatever you want to call it. Three hours, spent here in my cottage, every night until the King’s return. Deal?” 

Damian hadn’t expected it to be so easy. He supposed the witch had more salacious things on his mind than just talking. 

For his brother, for the kingdom… Damian would do anything. 

“Deal.” 

“Well then, run along, little serpent, wouldn’t want you to be missed!” The witch pushed Damian back out of the cottage. “You may call me Remus, Prince Damian. I’ll see you tonight!”

He winked, and Damian found himself at the edge of the forest, staring up at the gates of the city.

~~

It was a fortnight into their meetings, and Damian wondered what Remus was getting out of it. He had arrived the first night, expecting to be used, and instead was sat down with a cup of tea and asked about his favorite books. 

The same thing happened again, and again, and again. Logan was due to arrive back to the castle in three days, and Remus had asked him for no more than conversation. 

Damian was happy to give it. There were few in the castle who had time to listen to him speak, and even fewer who seemed to enjoy it rather than think it a chore. Damian often found himself with too much to say and no-one to say it to but the birds he fed on his windowsill. 

He was pacing as he spoke, and when he turned to look at Remus while making a point, his voice caught in his throat. The witch was lounging on his bed, looking at him so softly, so fondly, so… Something. Something very nice that did not have the tips of Damian’s ears flushing, not at all.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Remus blinked slowly, his smile never leaving his features. “You fill up the room, just by existing in it.” He sat up, and the angle of the flickering firelight softened his features dramatically. “I love to hear you talk, little serpent, you have a lovely voice.”

Damian resisted the urge to hide his face in his hands, knowing the low light concealed his blush. 

“Now, Damian, tell me… What is the kingdom’s plan for the upcoming winter?”

With no hesitation, and some relish, Damian continued speaking, lulling himself into a strange sense of security, of belonging.

~~

The next night, as he was leaving his room, Damian found himself stopped by armed guards. 

“What is the meaning of this?”

“You are suspected of treason by conspiracy against the King. Come with us.”

~~

Patton loved his little bakery. There was no better place in the world, to him. Customers came in, smiled at him, and bought his bread. 

Well, most customers smiled. 

“Goodness, sir, you’re awfully quiet today!”

The customer gave him a little glare. 

“It’s odd, you’ve been in such a nice mood the past few weeks!”

The man shrugged and pointed to the loaf he wanted. Patton was confused, as this customer was generally chatty enough. 

“Oh, of course you’ll be wanting the news!” Patton leaned closer to his customer conspiratorially. “They say the Prince has been arrested for treason! Conspiring against the King by going to the witch themself to make sure the King doesn’t return from his trip!”

The customer was staring at Patton with wide eyes.

“Rumor has it, well, it’s only rumor of course, but rumor has it the trial took place already, and if the King hasn’t returned by tomorrow morning, they’ll put the Prince to death at noon! It’s all so crazy, you know? Prince Damian seemed very loyal to his brother!”

The door slammed behind the customer as he rushed out. 

~~

Damian knew he was going to die. Logan wouldn’t return, of course he wouldn’t. Why would the witch keep his promise, when Damian hadn’t been able to keep his? Damian would die at the hands of traitors, and the kingdom would fall. 

He had no more tears left in him. 

The sun was creeping steadily towards noon-high, and the treacherous lords had led Damian to the ancient public execution block. Crowds were gathering, booing at him and calling out for his head. 

Hadn’t the wretches done enough? Could they not have just killed him in the cell they had been keeping him in, beaten and bruised? 

They had used his own broach as a brand against his skin, over, and over, and over again. He felt numb and defeated. His and his brother’s lineage would die out here, on cobblestones left unused for generations.

He was pushed to kneel, and he heard the scrape of steel against scabbard.

He also heard a roar and a crash, and felt the crowd clear in front of him to make way for a gigantic creature of fire and flesh land before him.

“Halt!”

Damian felt a tiny flicker of hope alight in his chest, but dared not look up. 

The sound of leather boots hitting stone, striding towards him. “What, pray, is going on here? Why is my brother, the Prince of this kingdom, bound and kneeling in a place where no Prince has ever knelt before?” A pause, and then Logan continued. “Do not attempt to debate with me, Lord Niels, I have perused _all_ the history books.”

“Your esteemed Majesty, this dog” someone kicked Damian in the side, “was caught conspiring against you with the witch of the forest! He attended the witch’s evildoings every night whilst you were away, undoubtedly in an underhanded attempt to sabotage your journey!”

Another pair of leather boots hit the cobblestones. The owner did not move from his dismount position beside the beast.

“Falsehood. My brother, Prince Damian, used his own personal treasury to hire a good knight such as Sir Roman, there, in order to protect me. Sir Roman is a highly competent individual, and I must admit, without his help, I would have perished many times over.” 

Damian still didn’t look up, despite the warmth in his brother’s tone as he spoke of this mysterious knight. 

“To be entirely factual, not only Sir Roman, but also the Witch of the Woods himself, informed me that Prince Damian did everything he could to ensure my safety, as he had found himself privy to a plot against my person. I believe I shall hear the same tale from his own lips, shortly.”

Damian flinched as Logan knelt to his level. Cool, ink-stained hands cradled his chin and brought his face up to meet his brother’s inspection. 

“By my troth, Damian, what have they done to you?” The serpent broach had burned into the skin of Damian’s face, over and over again, leaving half of it blackened and burnt.

“We were attempting to wrestle information about the whereabouts of the Witch from him, in order to catch both traitors in the act!” 

Even as numb as he felt, Damian could tell the courtier was digging himself deeper into his own doom. A soft thumb swept away a drop of blood that spilled from the corner of Damian’s mouth.

“Why are you not answering me yourself, brother? You have never before held your own counsel.” 

“The treacherous creature was attempting to bring about insurrection against your Majesty, so we cut out his lying tongue!”

“You. Did. _What_” a deep voice rumbled from on high.

There was a gasp from the gathered crowd, and a wall of heat erupted behind Damian, singeing the ropes binding his hands until they snapped. The noblemen who had attempted the coup didn’t even have time to scream as they withered beneath the dragon’s fire.

Logan and his cool hands were pushed aside, replaced with hot, calloused hands that held Damian’s face reverently. 

“My little serpent, how dare they do such things to you!” 

Damian finally found it in himself to meet the eyes searching his face wildly. Remus. Remus was here and Logan was here even though Damian hadn’t kept his promise. 

_”I love to hear you talk, little serpent.”_

Tears began to roll down Damian’s cheeks as he remembered that Remus would never hear him speak again. 

“Move, Re.” Another pair of hands, and a face both familiar and not. “Prince Damian, I am Sir Roman. Remus is my brother. I am far more capable of healing magic than he, will you allow me to help you?”

Damian shook his head, pulling away from the unfamiliar grasp to look for Remus. He found witch hovering over the knight’s shoulder, wringing his hands. 

The Prince reached out to him weakly, and Remus knelt back down to him. 

“Little serpent, my love, I won’t be able to heal you perfectly. I may not be able to restore your tongue.” His warm hands found their way back to Damian’s cheeks. “But I will do what I can, darling, and then never let you leave my side again.”

Damian hated the lost look on Remus’ face, and did his best to smile in order to chase it away.

Remus smiled back, and then, in front of their brothers, the castle, and the entire city, he kissed him.

**Author's Note:**

> Holy moly on ricecakes, my dudes, that one was a _doozy_ to write. I gotta make the next one extra fluffy to cleanse my palette. Palate? Palatte? Something.
> 
> I set up a Discord server! <https://discord.gg/gtWgvQ4>  
Join me to talk about my writing and stuff!
> 
> Find more on tumblr @we-are-fam-ily


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